


with caution

by mudgirl



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 03:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16653454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudgirl/pseuds/mudgirl
Summary: don't make me wait for your touch to vanish, i still want you





	with caution

They meet after all lights have been shut off, one hand clasped against throat and back, it takes them back to the days before it all turned to shit. He can’t let him go, the taste of his mouth more addicting than the slow drag of a cigarette. He needs him, he needs him so bad he can’t breathe. He wake up in the middle of the night chasing his breath and letting hands wander before falling over the steps to the hallway. Looking, he’s looking for something that can make his blood stop boiling. 

He sneaks cigarettes on the fire escape, washing off the stench hoping no one will notice the way his hands shake after time gone too long.

The bricks all over the city is the same, rough against skin, he wears the marks like a badge of honor,kisses around his throat letting them brand his everything, bruises on hips to match the ones on his thighs. It’s okay to bite if you kiss the wound close with stitches as teeth. 

  

 

Knowing it was someone else’s fault they broke apart, makes the regret burn hotter. He hasn’t been cold this whole winter, burning down every day with a fever only his awaited touch can cool. He hasn’t talked to anyone in weeks, their eyes hot in the back his neck, he hides the shakes in the bathroom, letting the water rain over him. Ross was kicked out of the city by his sister, everyone has banned him from letting him touch the New York sky. It doesn’t make it any better. 

 

 

They still live together, the doors now permanently closed. He hasn’t seen Chandler’s eyes in months, always running away, but letting them rake over Joey’s body when the night falls.He prefers it this way, he don’t trust his body not to break apart and let out the blooming anger burn the last bridges between them. 

 

Every day starts the same; red eyes, concerned stares, the kicking walls and trying to stifle moans against pillows. 

Every night starts the same; fighting to hold in tears, other side of the bed colder ever minute, making promises to mend things but forgetting how to sew the next day. 

 

 

“I’m moving out”

Joey falters, falls behind, the tile is freezing against his back. 

“Oh”

He can’t speak. He craves, he needs, he wants so badly he can feel the itch pulling his skin to pieces.

“Yeah, I’m moving away. From New York”

He sinks further down the wall, letting his head fall back, exposing his throat. Baring himself for the last feeling of teeth. 

“Forever?”

It barely comes over his lips, a whisper of a question too afraid to leave his body. Chandler is buckling his jeans, hoping to disappear in the middle of night. It’s only 9 am. 

“I think so. I’m leaving today”

“It’s over then?”

He tries to sound stoic, forgiven and out of his league. The person he was before, but the insecurity sneaks in, it plants its seed deep in lungs. 

“Chandler, is it really over?”

A spell is broken, the magic is gone and the world have closed the blinds. 

“Yeah”

Chandler sits down next to him, hands him a towel and a shirt. Joey yearns to hold his hand, kiss him one last time and bury himself in the scent he has breathed in for so long. His fingers creeps closer, his face to the other side, if he sees him he’ll cry. He’ll cry and he needs this to happen without letting Chandler see how much this destroys him. 

“I-“

He chases it, the need, he lets the craving take over. He pulls Chandler close to him, letting his tongue spell out the words he’s afraid to spill. Just this last time to make the pain slip away. He seats himself in Chandler’s lap, the motion more natural than he wants it to be. His muscles, skin, blood only remembers this with love and heat. His lips never leaves Chandlers, sneaking to hide and savour a taste he will never get to call his. Chandler never touches him, hands fallen to his sides. The bathroom is colder, the steam and passion have left the room, he hopes his tears never leave his eyes. Pleas can be heard if listening and he’s all ears. He finally lets go of Chandler, still not meeting his eyes, getting up and shutting the door. The silence follows him into bed.

 

He wants to scream stay into the walls of the apartment, letting them trap his love in the cheap fixings and plywood doors. He wants the place to hold him back, not his own hands. 

After Chandler moves out, the place is quiet. Joey never leaves through the door. He sleeps in the living room, trying to imagine the whisper of touch is from a known hand and not someone who wants to paint their grief into Joey’s body. Like he cares. Caution is his new lover. 

 

 

“He called me. He sounds depressed over the phone. I think he misses you”

Monica have hauled him out of the apartment, brought her arms around him and taken him somewhere he can let his sorrow be drowned. Rachel sits close with caution. Her hands lingers on her thighs, too afraid to touch, too afraid to melt into his skin. 

“He’s drinking and smoking again. I’m worried for him. I’m worried for you. It’s not the same”

He breaks. 

“I-“

He stands,pacing the room, letting his face fall away.

“I still-“

He stops, runs his hands over his face and sits down on the floor. The pair looks at him, testing the new grounds before taking his hands in theirs. They’re close, Rachel’s hair falling over Monica’s shoulder, blending the dirty blonde with the dark black. It stings. 

“I still love … I still love him”

“We know. He knows”

He doesn’t want his love to be known. It doesn’t belong to him anymore, his heart borrowed and lent to people careless with tissue and veins. His body never mended. 

“He knows, I promise. He knows it, he just don’t want to be hurt”

Joey grows angry, the anger unknown, used to a simmer directed at a third party. 

“What about me? I’m hurt”

He hurts still. The pain never stopped only grew with a speed that overtook everything he had crawled back from last time. He falls asleep crying into Monica’s lap. It feels wrong.

 

 

There’s a message on his phone when he wanders back into his apartment, guilt riding his ass all the way into his depression pit. He plays it not listening to the words at first, only letting the voice wash over him. It’s him.

_I, I’m sorry. I want to see you. Please, let me see you. I’m sorry Joey._

He has to play the message back multiple times to finally understand the weight that settles in his stomach. He lies awake all night, the phone clutched in his hands, an answer burning his tongue to crisp. 

 

 

He sees him again the next week. 

They both look like hell, meeting in the local coffee shop. The bittersweet sight still stings his eyes. They avoid the couches, not wanting to slouch back into old habits.

“So, how have you been?”

He doesn’t answer. He can’t look up, instead looking at his fingers, seeing the stains of dried blood under his nails. He pretends it’s from a fight and not from plying the windows open with desperate fingers to let the cold air in to wash him clean of memories.

“Dumb question. I-“

Chandler stops, his hands letting go of the coffee cup. He’s craving a smoke, something to do with his hands. The stillness annoys him. Joey rips the napkin apart, letting the paper fill the table between them. 

“I missed you”

Joey grits his teeth. A pain springs up from his spine.

“Please. I need to hear your voice”

His throat is dry. Swallowing his spit makes it burn all the way down. He relishes in the pain and leans back with a sigh.

“I don’t know what to say. You left. Why?”

“I needed to get away”

_Away from you_ rings in Joey’s ears. He lets it seep into his skin and doesn’t even try to shake the doubt away. 

“I needed some time to figure out what really happened. It wasn’t your fault”

It’s an excuse. They could’ve handled this better, with dignity instead of breaking into two pieces welded the wrong way.

“He outed us in such a nasty way. I needed to forget the humiliation. I thought it was over. The feeling of losing control”

Joey looks up. Chandler looks like hell, he has lost weight, his hair too long and falling into his eyes. 

“I know, but he was gone before you left. You left me behind to deal with your own things sure, but you left me with nothing to hold onto. That’s fucked up, man”

The anger has left his body, instead only pity and acceptance have filled his lungs with stagnant air. Chandler chuckles and reaches for Joey’s hands. He lets him take them, the smooth skin more welcome than he wants to admit.

“I know. Fuck, should just have told him to fuck off than go no-homo on you. That was all me”

Joey bites the inside of his cheek, he doesn’t want to let a smile break the barrier. 

“I want to be with you again, yes-homo and without letting other people decide what’s what”

He tears up, thumb pressing against Chandler’s wrist, feeling the beat he fell asleep to every night.

“Please don’t leave me again, man. It hurt as fuck to see you go”

Chandler swallows, putting his head down but not letting go of Joey’s hands. A lifeline have opened up between them.

“I promise”

They smile into their cups. 

 

 

It takes time for the bond to mend, slowly and steady. It’s first dates all over again, falling asleep watching Star Wars, pretending their first kiss never happened. It’s with caution when hands slide over skin, stalling before lips meets lips, assuring they’re still here, still here to be stitched up for love to fill them up again. It’s shy glances, hand holding under tables, their own language reinvented. It takes time and the leaves sprout before they tell each other their love again, but when it happens it’s not said into skin hoping the other’s asleep. It’s shouted over the table in front of friends, laughing into mouths and kissing New Years Eve with clear intent. It’s there to be held in warm hands and burning through blood streams with the most delicious taste. 

**Author's Note:**

> first work / i have written fics in my head for like 10 years, but it has taken some time to beat the insecurity down to finally post something.


End file.
